Where have all the flowers gone?
by HeroesLover77
Summary: War changes people...it's certainly changed Newkirk. Song fic based on "Where have all the flower's gone?" If you don't know it, you should YouTube it, because it's really nice. Please comment! Thanks! Some violence.
1. Where have all the Flowers gone?

_Summary - Newkirk's experiences of war. Song-fic "Where have all the flowers gone?" If you don't know the song, YouTube it. It's really nice. _

_DISCLAIMER - I own NOTHING! Not the song, not the show or characters, nothing. So please don't sue me…_

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_Where have all the flowers gone?_

_Long time passing_

_Where have all the flowers gone?_

_Long time ago_

_Where have all the flowers gone?_

_Young Girls picked them every one_

_When will they ever learn?_

_When will they ever learn?_

**Chapter One****-** **Where have all the Flowers gone?**

September 1918 - England

7 year old Peter Newkirk stood quietly by his mother's side. His older brother Simon was standing to the right of her. He was standing tall, facing forward with a stiff upper lip. Newkirk tried his best to emulate his brother. They were supposed to be strong, for their mother, and their sister. But Peter didn't feel very strong inside, as he watched friends and family members step forward one by one to place a flower on his father's casket.

When it was his family's turn, 11 year old Simon went first, and Peter went next. He laid his flower down on the rain soaked union jack that was draped over the wooden coffin. Even as a child, he understood that his father was not coming back. He understood that the war had taken him from them. A war that history had never seen the likes of; a war concerning the entire world. And Peter prayed that such a terrible war would never happen again.

He stepped back and watched as his mother stood over the grave, crying. He then looked back up at his brother and couldn't help but admire his strength. Simon was not cowering to the cold wind and rain, but standing at attention as the casket was lowered into the ground. _This war is such a dreadful thing,_ Peter thought. _Why do people have to fight? Moreover, why do they have to die?_

When the coffin reached the bottom of the grave, Simon took a step forward and took his mother's hand. The two of them turned and lead the congregation back up to the church at the top of the hill. Peter said a final, silent goodbye to his father, then took Mavis' hand and followed the rest of his family up the hill, in the rain.

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A/N - A short first chapter, for sure. My first Hogan's Heroes fanfic, so please excuse any inconsistencies or errors. Comments would be greatly appreciated! Thank you.


	2. Where have all the Young girls gone?

_**Where have all the young girls gone?**_

_**Long time passing**_

_**Where have all the young girls gone?**_

_**Long time ago**_

_**Where have all the young girls gone?**_

_**Gone to young men, everyone.**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

_**

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**_

**Chapter Two - Where have all the Young girls gone?**

October 1939 - London, England

Newkirk and his girlfriend, Clara, sat atop a closed rubbish container in an alley behind a pub. They had come out there to get some air, and in order to be alone. It was a clear starry night, and a bittersweet one. It was Newkirk's last night as a civilian, and they were making the most of their time together.

"I wish you wouldn't leave, Peter." Clara said as their lips parted. Newkirk drew away from their kiss awkwardly. His joining up had been the topic of nearly all their conversations as of late. He really didn't want to get into another argument.

"Luv, I've already made up my mind. There are lads fighting right now who are practically half my age. I've gotta do my part!"

"Just like your brother before you, and your father before him." She finished for him. She sighed.

"I know you have to leave, I just wish you didn't have to." She told him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"I won't get hurt, I promise." He grinned at her, and then remembered her gift.

"I got you something!" He exclaimed, and began to dig around in his pockets. He felt what he was looking for and handed it to her.

"It's beautiful!" She gasped. She held the necklace up so that she could see better in the glow of the street lamp. It was a beautiful, white-silver chain, with a heart pendant.

She turned and gave him a look.

"How did you come across this?" She asked, half-joking. She didn't approve of his pick-pocketing.

"I came by it honestly, if that's what you mean! I paid for it myself, I swear. See, it's engraved! To Clara, all my love, Peter. If I'd stolen it, it wouldn't have said that!"

"I suppose not." She said with a smile. She put it on, and admired it again, then they kissed for a long time. When they finished, Newkirk gave her a cheeky grin.

"Just don't inquire as to how I got the money to pay for it, alright?"

She laughed and playfully hit his arm. All of a sudden, she felt herself tearing up.

"What's the matter, Luv?" Newkirk asked, drawing her close to him.

"Come back alive, Peter. Promise me that, will you? I don't know what I'd do if… just promise me."

"This is war, Clara, I can't really promise-"

"Please, Peter." She looked at him pleadingly.

Newkirk nodded. "Fritz ain't no match for me, baby!" He said with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. "This war 'll be over in no time!" Clara laughed, through the tears.

"I love you, you know that." She said. And they held each other, and didn't let go for hours. And Newkirk hoped even more that he was right, and that the war would be over in no time.


	3. Where have all the Young men gone?

_**Where have all the young men gone, long time passing?  
Where have all the young men gone, long time ago?  
Where have all the young men gone?  
Gone for soldiers every one.  
Oh, when will they ever learn?  
Oh, when will they ever learn?**_

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**Chapter Three - Where have all the Young men gone? **

March 1940 

The first time Newkirk killed a man, he was stunned, as many soldiers are. He was responsible for ending the life of a fellow human being. In this case, a Nazi. He thought, when he heard his mates talk, that maybe killing a Nazi wasn't as bad as killing somebody else. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard. But that wasn't his experience.

The man Peter killed was young, possibly younger than Newkirk himself. A Corporal, like he was. The bullet was fired, and the man fell to the ground, bleeding from the chest. He had to do it; their plane had just been shot down behind enemy lines, and since they were escorting an important informative to London, they couldn't risk capture. The man's eyes met Newkirk's, and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. He fell to his knees, and then onto his stomach, clutching at the wound. He was dying, and Newkirk was standing there.

"Well done, Corporal. Now let's get a move on!" said his commanding officer.

"I - I killed him." Peter said. He dropped the gun in disgust and wiped his hands on his uniform, as if trying to get rid of the act his hands had just committed.

"He was a German!" The CO reminded his airman. "Let's go!" He lead the group on through the dark woods. Newkirk felt numb, and wasn't sure he could move until one of his mates came over and put an arm around his shoulders, and led him along.

"Peter, are you alright?" The Sergeant asked as they walked. Newkirk didn't answer. "It's okay to be upset, I was after I killed someone for the first time. The first time's always the toughest. If you hadn't killed him, he would've killed us."

"I suppose so." Newkirk said, still a little unsure. He couldn't get the image of the man's eyes out of his mind.

"And as terrible as it sounds, there will be others. You won't exactly get used to it, but it does get easier. Believe me, alright? " Newkirk nodded. The Sergeant held out Newkirk's pistol, which he had picked up when Newkirk tossed it.

"Thanks." He muttered, and shoved the weapon into it's holster.

The Sergeant gave the Corporal's arm a little squeeze of support before letting him go. Newkirk took a deep breath, and tried to forget about the incident. He had to compartmentalise. Now, they needed to get this informant to England. There would be time for guilt later.

As it turns out, the Sergeant had been right. Nobody was going to get out of that war with only a single kill to their name. That was evident as the months went on. Newkirk was forced to take more lives, in order to save others and to preserve secrets. None were necessarily easy, but Newkirk found himself able to detach better with each time lethal force was required of him.

However, he knew he would never forget the man in the woods that night they were shot down. He knew he was carry that image, those eyes, with him forever.

The night he was captured and brought to Stalag 13, he learned another lesson about being a soldier. You lose your own people, too. He'd lost comrades before, but not like this. There were six of them on that plane, and he was the only survivor. And he had known each of those men very well.

His grief stopped him from making friends at the POW camp. He kept to himself, even caused quite a bit of trouble for the other prisoners, not to mention that great twit of a kommandant who was in charge of the Stalag luft.

One day, a half a year after Newkirk had first arrived there, a French Corporal who had had a similar experience arrived at the camp. He was the only survivor from his plane crash. To the surprise of the other prisoners, Newkirk decided to open up to this new man. In talking to the Frenchman, who knew what Newkirk had gone through, the Englander felt himself becoming less hostile.

Soon, he made friends with some of the other prisoners, mostly the new ones, who couldn't hold his previous behaviour against him. And eventually, they had formed a tight knit circle, which led to the beginning of a highly productive underground sabotage operation.

Newkirk felt safe at Stalag 13. Partially because, their group kept killing to a minimum, as a rule of thumb. But mainly because his friends were safe there. Even though their missions could be dangerous, he was fairly confident that he would never have to say goodbye to these men who he had grown so attached to; these men who had become his brothers.


	4. Where have all the Soldiers gone? pt 1

_**Where have all the soldiers gone?**_

_**Long time passing**_

_**Where have all the soldiers gone?**_

_**Long time ago**_

_**Where have all the soldiers gone?**_

_**Gone to graveyards, everyone.**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

**Chapter Four - Where have all the Soldiers gone? Pt. 1**

1942 - Stalag 13

"Would you look at how many letters I got?" Carter exclaimed cheerfully as he sat down on his cot, sorting through the envelopes. "I'm so popular!"

"Must've cost you a fortune in stamps, Carter.*" Newkirk joked.

"Huh?" Carter asked, looking at him innocently.

"I was insinuating that you sent those letters to yourself." Newkirk answered, rolling his eyes. Carter could be so thick.

"Oh." The American Sergeant said. Then he frowned. "That's not very nice, Newkirk."

"No, I suppose it isn't." He smirked and hopped up onto his own cot, to look through his mail. One envelope caught his attention- it was heavier than the others. He tore it open.

The smirk disappeared from his face, and was replaced by a look of confusion and disbelief. LeBeau, who was on the opposite bunk, noticed.

"Everything alright, Pierre?"

Newkirk just looked at him, like he was about to speak, but as if he changed his mind. Then he re-read the letter in his hand and suddenly felt as if the walls were closing in on him.

"Newkirk, what -"

"It's none of your business!" He answered, a bit too quickly, and bit more harshly than he had intended. LeBeau looked taken back.

Newkirk jumped down from his bed and grabbed his jacket off the table.

"Where are you going?" Carter asked.

"I need some air." Peter mumbled, and he turned and left quickly. His friends exchanged looks of concern, but figured they would let Newkirk have some time by himself.

Once he was outside, Newkirk stumbled through the snow, around to the side of the barracks, where no one could see him. Then, he leaned back against the wall, and sunk down to the ground. He read the letter again. The letter telling him that his only brother, Simon, had been killed in action.

He couldn't help himself, and he started to cry. He buried his face in one hand, and held his brother's ID tags against his heart with the other. They had been sent along with the letter.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there for, but eventually Schultz came over and told Newkirk he had to go inside.

"Okay, Schultzie." He said quietly, as he tucked the dog tags and letter into his coat. As he stood up, Schultz noticed he had been crying.

"Newkirk." He said, softly. "Are you alright?"

"Well, it's almost lights out, I'd better get going. G'night Shultz." And with that, Newkirk hurried away.

When he walked inside, all eyes were on him.

"Take a ruddy picture, why don't you! It'll last longer." He practically shouted.

"Newkirk are you okay? What -" Andrew asked, not taking the outburst personally.

Before Newkirk could tell him to leave off, Hogan came out of his quarters.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I heard some yelling…"

He looked over a Newkirk, who was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. No one said anything.

"Newkirk?" He asked.

"It's nothing, sir. Good night." Despite the fact that he was still wearing his uniform, he got under his covers and faced the wall, away from his friends.

"Good night." Hogan answered after a moment, obviously concerned.

Newkirk pretended to sleep, but he heard Carter whispering to the Colonel about what had happened earlier.

Eventually, everyone was asleep, except for Newkirk. He lay wide awake and turned his brother's ID tags through his fingers, sighing. How could Simon be dead? He couldn't believe it. After a while he decided he probably wasn't going to get any sleep that night, and that he wasn't just going to do lay there. So, he carefully and quietly got out of bed, and put on some civilian clothes. Then, he headed out through the tunnel.

What he didn't know, however, was that Colonel Hogan hadn't been asleep, but was up reading. He heard Newkirk while he was moving about getting changed, and heard him going down through the tunnel.

Instead of stopping him, Hogan put on some civilian clothes himself, and decided to follow him.

* - not an original joke, I heard Paul McCartney say it in A Hard Day's Night. (P.S. I don't own that movie either lol)


	5. Where have all the Soldiers gone? pt 2

_**Where have all the soldiers gone?**_

_**Long time passing**_

_**Where have all the soldiers gone?**_

_**Long time ago**_

_**Where have all the soldiers gone?**_

_**Gone to graveyards, everyone.**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

**Chapter Five - Where have all the Soldiers gone? Pt. 2**

Hogan followed Newkirk to the Hofbrau in town, at a safe distance, so as not to let on that he was following him.

Once inside, Hogan waited until Newkirk took a seat, and remained by the door until his Corporal had had a chance to order a drink. Then he approached him.

Newkirk pulled out his brother's ID tags and stared at them for a few second. Then a voice behind him made him jump.

"Whose are those?"

Newkirk practically fell off his chair; he knew that voice all too well. He spun and stood up, at attention.

"C-colonel!" He stammered, a bit too loudly.

"Sssh! We're civilians, remember? Sit down." Hogan said as the bartender brought Newkirk's drink. Hogan ordered one for himself, and then turned to his friend. Newkirk spoke before his Commanding Officer got the chance.

"Sir, please let me explain! I'm just here for…I was just…" Hogan waited patiently for his man to explain, but now that Newkirk thought about it, he had no reasonable explanation. Newkirk sighed.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what possessed me to do something so stupid. I…I thought everybody was asleep."

Hogan shook his head.

"Everyone but me." The bartender placed Hogan's drink in front of him. "Danke." He said, and took a sip.

"Why didn't you stop me?" Newkirk asked.

"I figured you had a good enough reason for getting up in the middle of the night and just taking off. It's not like you. When Carter told me about your little outburst earlier, I knew something was bothering you. I thought maybe following this would help me figure out what it was. I mean, you weren't about to tell me yourself."

Newkirk knew he was right. He looked down at the dog tags in his hand.

"Whose are they?" Hogan asked gently, nodding at them.

"They're my brother's. Were my brother's. I got the letter today," he pulled out the paper and handed it to his commanding officer. "and these came with it." He rattled the tags a little, like he didn't know what to do with them.

Hogan felt a lump form in his throat. He scanned the page and then looked at Newkirk.

"Peter. I'm so sorry." He put a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder. Newkirk was obviously very tense. He wasn't even touching his drink.

"You never told us you had a brother. What was he like? Were you close?"

Newkirk shrugged.

"After my dad died, he sorta stopped being a brother, and starting trying to be a father to my sister and me. But I needed him to be there for me as a brother, you know? It's hard to explain. Anyway, we kinda grew apart after that. But I always looked up to him. He was my role model. I wasn't anything like him, mind you. He walked the straight and narrow. And me…well, you know me. My mum always asked why I couldn't be more like him. But I didn't really resent him for that. He was the one who was right, after all."

"So in other words, things were complicated." Hogan summarized, with a sad smile.

Newkirk let out a little laugh. "I guess you could say that, yeah. But it doesn't matter anymore." Suddenly his face grew dark, angry.

"He was a better man than I am. And a better soldier. He'd never wronged anybody, in his whole life. If I had been killed, that would just be one less criminal in the world. It should've been me in that plane they hit, Colonel, not him."

"Excuse me?" Hogan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He didn't deserve this, Colonel." Newkirk said. He could feel himself tearing up a bit, but turned his head away so his friend wouldn't see.

"Of course he didn't, Newkirk!" Hogan said, in exasperation. "But listen to me. I'm thanking God right now that it wasn't you in that plane. You're an irreplaceable member of this team. You're not a criminal, you're a hero. And so is your brother. He gave the ultimate sacrifice, for you and your mother and sister, and all of us. Don't hinder that by wishing he had taken you with him."

Newkirk sniffled a bit as he mulled over the Colonel's words.

"I guess you're right, sir. As per usual." He gave a weak, tired smile. He picked up his drink and looked at it. Hogan asked for a top up, and then held up his glass as well.

"To your brother. May he rest in peace. And may this damn war be over before too long." They clinked glasses, and drank down the alcohol. After a moment of sitting in silence, Hogan spoke again.

"I could arrange for you to escape for a while, if you want. Maybe spend a couple days with your family. Attend the funeral service."

"I appreciate the offer, sir." Newkirk said with a sigh. "But I know how difficult that would be for you to orchestrate. And besides, my mom and sister are waiting out the war in Canada, living with our relatives, temporarily. And I have a job to do at Stalag 13. I mean, I'm irreplaceable, right?" He offered a smirk, which Hogan returned.

"Now you're getting it." Hogan said. "If you're okay, I think we had better head back soon. It's getting pretty late. Is that alright?"

Newkirk nodded, and searched his pockets for some money.

"It's on me." Hogan said, placing a few marks on the table.

"Thanks." Newkirk said, yawning.

"Tired?"

"Nah."

"Me too. Come on." Hogan grinned, and he put his arm around his friend and led him out of the pub.

A/N - Thank you for your reviews!


	6. Where have all the Graveyards gone?

_**Where have all the graveyards gone?**_

_**Long time passing**_

_**Where have all the graveyards gone?**_

_**Long time ago**_

_**Where have all the graveyards gone?**_

_**Gone to flowers, everyone...**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

_**When will they ever learn?**_

**Chapter Six - Where have all the Graveyards gone? **

Two days later, on a work detail, Hogan made a deal with Schultz, who was the only guard watching them. In exchange for 3 chocolate bars, Schultz agreed to let the boys stop working for a few minutes, and venture into the forest a bit.

"You ready?" He asked Newkirk. The Corporal nodded and took out the letter from the day before. Everyone from Barracks 2 gathered around them, and Hogan motioned for Olson to start digging the hole there.

"Everyone here is aware that Corporal Newkirk's brother was killed in action earlier this week. We are holding this service in memory of him, as well as in memory of any family members or close friends who had been killed in combat. We are going to pass around Newkirk's letter, and if you have some one you are remembering today, you can write their name on the back of the paper, to be buried."

Hogan started off, jotting down a couple names and then passing it to the man to his left. As it happened, everyone had a relative or close friend who had been killed in the war. Even Schultz wrote something down, and he looked more sombre than any of the men had ever seen him as he did it.

When the paper came back to Hogan, it was full of names. He saw the names Carter and Kinchlo, perhaps the uncles or cousins of his men. He handed the paper to Newkirk, who looked it over himself. As brutally painful as it was to read, it also helped him feel as if he were not alone.

Olson was done digging the makeshift grave, and Newkirk crouched down and dropped the letter in. Then he stood back up and watched Olson fill in the hole again.

"Gentlemen. The fallen." Hogan said. And immediately, the entire group snapped to attention, and saluted.

After a few moments of silence, Newkirk picked up a couple sticks, and using a hammer and some nails they were given for the work detail, fashioned a cross. He knelt down and dug the cross into the dirt, above the letter.

"See you on the other side, mate." He said quietly. He glanced down at the set of dog tags around his neck. He would never take them off for as long as he lived. That way, he could always carry a piece of his brother with him.

Hogan placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Schultz says Klink wants us back at camp now."

Newkirk looked up at him.

"Okay. Just give me a sec, I'll catch up."

Hogan nodded and the work party started back towards camp. Newkirk looked back at their grave and sighed.

_Thanks for everything, Simon,_ Newkirk thought. _Watch over Mum and Mavis where you are, okay?_

He got up, brushed the dirt off his knees, and offered one final salute. Then he turned and jogged to catch up with his friends.


	7. Gone to flowers Epilogue

**Chapter Seven - …Gone to flowers, every one. (Epilogue)**

The group walked in silence back to camp. When they got there, Schultz stopped the Colonel. He had tears in his eyes.

"Colonel Hogan, that was beautiful. Here." He handed him back the chocolate bars. "I wouldn't feel right taking them. It wouldn't be appropriate."

Hogan and Newkirk smiled. They were both touched.

"Thanks, Schultz." Hogan said, taking them back. "We'll get you next time, then."

"Newkirk, I am sorry about your brother. I'm sure he was a very nice man. Just like you." Schultz said. Newkirk patted him on the back.

"Thanks, Schultzie. That means a lot." He said. And it did mean a lot. Especially considering it came from a German, a man who was supposed to be his enemy.

Newkirk turned to Hogan.

"It's funny, isn't it?"

"What is?" Hogan replied, as they walked back to Barracks 2.

"I don't hate him. And I don't hate Klink, not really. I feel…I feel like I should hate them, because they're Germans, and my brother was killed by Germans. But I don't hate them. Is that wrong?"

"There's no right and wrong in cases like that, Newkirk." Hogan assured him. "But it's my considered opinion, that the less hatred there is in the world, the better off we all are."

Newkirk nodded.

Kinch met them at the door to the Barracks.

"Just got off the radio with London, Colonel. They have a top priority mission for us." He read the mission transcript. It involved breaking into Klink's safe and getting a few papers to a contact outside the camp.

"The only one who can get into that safe is you, Newkirk." Hogan said. "Would you be up to it?"

Newkirk didn't even need to think about it.

"I can do it, sir. Don't worry about me." He answered as he lit himself a cigarette.

Hogan smiled. "I thought you might say that." He pulled out a map, and they started planning the mission.

As the weeks passed, the group went back to business as usual. But every now and again, Newkirk got the chance to escape to the little clearing in the woods. It had become a place of reflection for him. Whenever he was feeling stressed or upset, he was leave the chaos of his job, and just sit there.

And eventually, as the weather started getting (ever so slightly) warmer, Newkirk noticed that the forest floor in that particular area was changing. Flower buds were poking up through the dirt, and a few days later, they had all blossomed into beautiful flowers. There were so many, that they engulfed the grave almost entirely.

And Newkirk was reminded that even though the world was at war, and he was a prisoner, and even though people were constantly being killed at way too young an age, there was still beauty left in the world.

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A/N - The End! Thanks for your comments! I really enjoyed reading them :)


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